An hour in the life of a London commuter…
Imagine you have a morbid hatred of public transport borne out of a particularly bad experience that constantly haunts you. Now imagine that you have managed to work out a plan that has positively helped in easing your daily routine of buses and trains. So naturally, you should be totally relaxed on this beautiful September morning, a latte in one hand and a copy of Metro in the other; except it has been two months since the July 7th London bombs and you can cut the tension in the air.
Into the carriage enters a young Asian man, probably in his twenties with a beard that appeared wiser than him. He was dressed in a huge three-quarter length winter jacket that made you question the weather report and he had a look in his eyes that seemed to say “I am not afraid to meet my maker!” His presence sent the carriage into an uncomfortable slow-motioned frenzy and I swear some people disembarked before their intended stops. I was pretty scared myself, but I thought I had to ride it out, especially as I was running late anyway.
The young man fidgeted all through the first two stops, which funny enough felt like twenty to me. He hung to the carriage bar and swung precariously, glancing up every now and then, with a wickedly cheeky smile that made you feel he had a secret. A secret he was dying to share with the rest of us. As my stop got nearer, I started to feel less panicky and started to ask God for forgiveness for suspecting the poor young man in the first place. I looked around to see if the sense of relief was shared amongst all in the carriage, only to see that I was one of the few people left with our dear friend. To make matters worse, he was now staring intently at me.
He proceeded to take a few steps towards me, still smiling and swaggering aggressively. He opened up his jacket – my cue for burying my head in my hands and accepting my fate – and laughed out loud maniacally.
“I’m sorry bro,” he whispered. “I just love seeing the way they all react. This is my third empty tube this month. It’s too much power. I love it!”
Currently there are no comments related to "Fear Factor". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!